Rafael Guillén

I Hardly Remember

I hardly remember your voice, but the pain of youfloats in some remote current of my blood.I carry you in my depths, trapped in the sludgelike one of those corpses the sea refuses to give up.

It was a spoiled remnant of the South. A beachwithout fishing boats, where the sun was for sale.A stretch of shore, now a jungle of lights and languagesthat grudgingly offered, defeated, its obligation of sand.